𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑

[🎲] [𝟐𝟕] 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞

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[The Evening of October 31st]

[Jean's POV]

Jean moves aside, his hand extending to open the door for Mikasa. "They're in the living room."

As Mikasa moves forward, Jean allows the door to close, silently trailing behind her. The tunes emanating from the television fill every nook and cranny of the spacious apartment, enveloping the entire space in a symphony of sound.

Jean with a mixture of curiosity and astonishment, finds it rather remarkable that the neighbours have yet to voice any grievances.

"You're looking a little slutty," Mikasa remarks, playfully prodding Jean's chest with her finger.

His laughter fills the air as he dismisses her comment, "Connie forced me."

Jean's gaze sweeps over her, meticulously absorbing every intricate detail of her ensemble.

She wears a cropped olive top that shows off her slim but muscular frame, which is paired with short black shorts and gun holsters.

Her hair is tied back into a braid, and she has fake blood smoothed down the right side of her mouth, leading Jean to suspect that she's Lara croft.

"Oh, you guys are all coordinated," she remarks, her gaze shifting gracefully between Jean, Connie, and Sasha.

Sasha has a red cowboy hat on with her hair in two braids. She has a cropped white shirt with a yellow bandana tied around her neck, paired with short denim shorts and cow print boots.

Within an instant, it's obvious she's Jessie from Toy Story.

Connie is wearing a full buzz light year costume and even sprayed his hair purple to take his costume to the next level.

Eren emerges from the bathroom, capturing Jean's attention with his presence.

His attire mirrors that of Eric Draven from The Crow. His long, flowing hair cascades down, framing his face like a work of art.

Every inch of his face is adorned with a pure white base, accentuated by the striking contrast of dark eye and lip makeup.

"Armin didn't come?" Eren asks, his gaze fixed on Jean as he strides past him, his destination clear - the table adorned with an array of enticing alcoholic beverages.

Mikasa gently shakes her head, her voice filled with concern as she explains, "He wasn't feeling well."

With purposeful strides, Jean navigates his way to the kitchen, his destination clear in his mind.

As he reaches his destination, he reaches out and retrieves his phone, cradling it delicately in his hand.

A brief pause ensues, as if time itself holds its breath, before Jean's fingers dance across the screen, crafting a message with care and precision.

He carefully crafts the message, delicately choosing each word, as if painting a vivid picture with his fingertips. He hesitates, pondering the impression it might give, unsure if it will reveal his desperation.

Without hesitation, he confidently hits the send button.

Jean: I hope I see you tonight.

Without hesitation, he gently sets his phone down on the counter, sensing a swirling current of unease stirring deep within him.

His gaze is drawn to the bottle of spirits delicately perched on the side. Marco's deep appreciation for the art of drinking consumed his every thought.